Somewhere Over The Rainbow
by starlitsmile
Summary: Ok, let's get this straight: A's POV and spoiler alert! Oneshot but will continue as wished. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Plot planned but WILL work as a oneshot. Up to you! Read, it's short right now, just give it a chance! Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

---- Hey! I had so so so much fun writing my little oneshot before, and now, I'm going to attempt it again! I think this will just be a oneshot, but if you want me to update, just yell at me too and I most certainly will! And remember: Sara Shepard owns all characters. Even the mysterious "A". Because really people, would I be posting this on here if I owned the series? Let's be realistic. And of course, nothing I write will be in the next book. So, don't get too caught up in it. Anyhow, enjoy! ----

The last time I spoke…

_Yup, Ian's dead. And our favourite little foursome probably wish they were. Hanna's daddy hates her. Spencer's broke. Aria's a hot mess. And Emily's switched teams so many times I'm getting whiplash. I'd feel bad for them, but y'know, that's life. Or, um, death, in Ian's case._

_I suppose I could let bygones be bygones, forgive and forget, yada yada. But where's the fun in that? These pretty little bitches got everything I ever wanted, and now I'm going to make sure they get exactly what they deserve. Does that make me sound awful? Sorry, but as every pretty little liar knows, sometimes the truth's ugly - and it always hurts._

_I'll be watching…_

_Mwah!_

_~ A_

Spencer, Hanna, Aria, Emily. I'll get them, one by one. Just checkmarks to be ticked off - hardly obstacles at all. Mona thought she was tricky. But that just got her killed. I'm not that stupid. Mona wanted them dead. So do I.

But I'm going to do a better job at it.

_Mona_. She was so sure that by gaining trust she could beat them. But she was wrong. I mean, she's dead now, isn't she?

It's me; me, the _invisible_ one who's gotten by so far. I sit in the back of the classroom - watching them. I walk home, dragging my feet - watching them. I stand outside, hiding in the shadows - watching them. They don't know how I do it. And they never will.

Ever.

Those bitches will run around, like some kind of idiotic chicken with its head cut off, never realizing that if they took two seconds to open their eyes then they'd finally see.

And I mean, really, what are they so scared about? What can I do to them?

Oh, that's right.

I can _kill_ them.

~ A

---- So you tell me. Like? Continue? I have big plans! But if it's better as a stand-alone, that's nice too. ----


	2. Chapter 2

---- Ok!

I wanted to wait until I got five reviews so I could know whether or not I should continue or leave it as a one-shot. After reading the reveiws I've decided to carry on this story. Maybe it won't turn out to be much, but I'm hoping this fanfic will turn out pretty good. I already have four or five other fanfics on the go, and a tendancy to postpone updating, which really is NOT a good combo. But I'll try to keep this as lively (if that's the right word, which it's not, I'm pretty sure) as possible.

And of course, thanks for those five reviews!!! ----

_Homicidal (adjective) definition: Intending or likely to commit murder; capable of or intending to kill another human being unlawfully_

I ran my finger over the words, holding the worn and over-used dictionary in my hands precariously, taking in the scent of the pages and then looking around the Rosewood Day library, where I was hidden behind the many racks, sitting at a table that had been stuffed into the corner - I was invisible. As always.

My ears pricked up as I heard the unmistakable voice of one of my pretty little lying friends, and then another voice, a lower one - a different one, one I had only begun to really listen to recently, him and that rich bitch practically inseperable.

I shut the dictionary shut with a muffled clap, not having to re-read the definition. I knew it off by heart. It coursed through my vains. It was me. I was it. Homicidal...but only under certain circumstances. Circumstances such as this.

I stood up, silently, leaving my things at the table, expecting - _knowing_ - that they'll be undisturbed when I return. And then I head towards Spencer and her newest boyfriend - a boyfriend she has because, catty as she may be, money and looks will get you anything now - and begin to spy.

She and Andrew are studying, or so it looks. I can feel my cell phone in my pocket and I'm itching to pull it out, to find her number, to text her, to hit send. It could be simple, an, _I'm watching you!_ or maybe a bit more deep, a bit more meddling - _I can kill HIM too!_ Either way, it would get her freaked out. And it would be something. Something stopping her from this. All this...perfect.

After all, with the trial for Alison DiLaurentis's murder put on hold - with Ian dead they really didn't have any other choice, now did they? - Spencer has nothing but the basic am-I-a-Hastings-or-not-? drama to keep her busy. And maybe some people would think that's enough. But screw them. You know what Spencer's "drama" is? It's a detour. One that could very easily be re-routed, if only Spencer - for all her high-GPA and honour-roll smarts - was intelligent enough to realize, and then it'd be back to perfect-world for her.

Um, I don't _think_ so. Who else, other than me, is going to keep her on her feet?

No one.

Exactly.

It all comes down to me. It's a responsibility. A job. One I take with utmost seriousness.

"...ever since Ian...you know..." I catch something Andrew says. I wasn't paying attention fully. Just waiting, skipping over their SAT-prep garbage and waiting for something personal, something I could use. But nothing. Still nothing. Spencer just nods, biting her lip.

"Yeah," she says, "Well, I guess we'll never know who the killer is...anyway! What's the -" and she goes on to some question or other. I know she hasn't given up. She's just sheilding herself. And he notices too and just plays along with her game. All a game. All a game. That's all life is, for Spencer. Just a game - one that she, and she alone, must win.

_Ever since Ian...you know..._replays in my head. It's pathetic. Like Andrew didn't have the guts to finish his though. DIED! WAS MURDERED! KICKED THE BUCKET! WAS ASSASINATED! I want to scream at him. An infinite list of endings for that sentence is right there. I don't see why people bother trying to deny the truth. Maybe they're not so sure if Ian was murdered or not.

I flip over my cell phone. _I killed Ian, you know,_ I begin to type in, _and I'll kill any other guy who gets in the way_. I hit send. That should put any doubts to rest.

Moments later Spencer reads the text and her face falls, making excuses when she's asked who it's from, and trying to get back to her work, looking around her uneasily. But she doesn't see me. And she never will.

So why did I kill Ian? Why did I bother? Was it because he had discovered something significant? Was it because he was close to solving Ali's case all on his own?

No.

It was because Ian, like it or not, was going to be cast away, put in jail, forgotten, all thoughts put to bed. Ali would fade from reality, fade from memory, my threats would be less significant - the police may even begin to put some effort into finding me. After some time I'd have to go forgotten, too.

It's always been a three-women deal.

Mona found the original secrets about the liars. Mona came up with the original plan. I helped out with it, went through with it, am continuing long after she's lost the power to do so. And Alison, whether realizing it or not, has made it all happen for us - she, in her diary, spilled the secrets. She, with her first intial, freaked everyone out. And she, with her body reappearing, has played on their fears.

It's always been the three of us. Two dead, one to go.

I'm determined, however, that four more shall die before I do.


End file.
